Doom and Gloom
by vividelectra
Summary: The A-Team has been arrested. What happens next? A documentary team set out to find out what life after A is like.
1. Prologue

It has been five months since the A-team was arrested by the FBI. After Spencer finally broke down and told the girls about Toby, they'd gone to their parents and told them everything. They were shocked, to say the least, and somewhat hurt that their children hadn't come to them for help sooner. But most of all, they were angry, and their anger fueled their determination to take action. Emily's dad had a contact in the FBI, so they took over the case, and after a few weeks of investigating, made the arrests necessary. The girl in the red coat was Jenna in a blond wig. Several other students at Rosewood High were involved with surveillance for the A-Team; they were the people who were never able to forgive Ali and the way she bullied them.

The girls had to relive the whole sage several times at the trial. No one cared that Ashley Marin had an affair with Wilden, or that Ali had been responsible for the Jenna Thing. When asked about it, the judge said that the girls had been punished enough, and they had been victims for long enough.

All of the girls were relieved, to say the least. They were free from the burden that had been holding them down for years. Naturally, the story became national news. Every week the girls got hundreds of letters from people expressing their sympathies, or congratulating the girls on 'staying strong'.  
They were doing pretty good with moving on with their lives. Aria and Ezra got an apartment in Philly, where she could write, Ezra could teach, and Malcolm could spend the weekends with them. Hanna and Caleb moved to California. Hanna was a freelance fashion stylist, spending her time making celebrities look stylish - well, not yet, but she was sure her dream would be fulfilled soon.

Emily and Paige remained good friends after breaking up. Together with her new girlfriend, Dawn, Emily took the summer off to travel around the world. She moved to Texas after they returned so she could be closer to her family and still study for her degree in Sport Science.  
When it came down to it, Rosewood held too many memories. As beautiful as it was, and as much as it held their childhood, it would be forever haunted. They didn't want to stick around and let ghost of their pasts ruin their future.  
Except for Spencer. Instead of following her Ivy League dreams, she stayed in Rosewood, surviving on a steady stream of anti-depressants and scotch. Once a month, she took a flight from Philly to Harrisburg and drove 75 miles to the Federal Correctional Institution of Allenwood, PA.


	2. Guarding Secrets

**Disclaimer: If you think I own Pretty Little Liars, I think you need to a certain someone for a 72-hour evaluation in Radley.**

"Excuse me, sir," Kyle Logan addresses the head of security at the federal prison. The man has a ruddy expression and round belly, and doesn't look like he could do much to protect anyone, let alone keep a thousand criminals from escaping. "I'm Kyle Logan, I have a meeting for-"

"You're the reporter!" The man exclaims, his face turning into an even deeper shade of beetroot red. "I'm Maxwell Dowling, but please, call me whatever you'd like. And sit!"  
Kyle hesitantly lowers himself onto the overstuffed couch that nearly swallows him whole. Maxwell drags a straight backed chair out of the corner, and Kyle can't help but cringe when the poor chair squeaks in protest at having to support Max's large frame.  
"Tell me about this documentary."  
Kyle runs a hand through his shaggy blond hair, noticing for the fiftieth time that day that he's long overdue for a haircut. "I've been extremely curious about this Rosewood story, but now that all of the buzz has died down, it's the perfect opportunity to do an update. I mostly want to do a 'where are they now,' and what the aftermath of such traumatic bullying is." Kyle checks his jumble of notes, made on the margins of other notes. "I know that Spencer Hastings has been visiting her abuser, Toby Cavanaugh, since he was convicted. I want to talk to some of the guards, and possibly Mr. Cavanaugh, about her visits."  
Mr. Dowling looks slightly bewildered. "Why don't you just ask her about it?"  
"Her parents are both lawyers, and they've made sure that she's protected from the paparazzi."  
"But it's okay if you talk to her crazy ex?" Mr. Dowling raises a skeptical brow.

"I double - triple - checked. You can call the production office's lawyer, if you want."  
"No. Just tell me what you need to do."  
"I need permission to talk to the inmate, and maybe his roommate. No one has been allowed to interview him before about why he did it, and none of the psychologists released any information about his motives or mental state. Their lawyers need to be present when they sign the releases, and-"  
"It sounds like an awful lot work."  
Kyle's reply is confident. "It's a story worth telling."

"Spencer, please don't do this." Wren pleads, trying to reach for the suitcase she clutches in her hand.  
Spencer's grip tightens as she twists her body away from him. "You ask me to stay every time." Her voice carries a sad laugh.  
Wren has been there for her the whole time, and she considers him her doctor with benefits, in more ways than one. He supplies her medication - no shady, under the counter medications required, he takes time out of his busy work schedule to make sure that she goes to her sessions with Dr. Sullivan, and he even let her move in with him.  
She knew that he had made a lot of sacrifices for her, yet she couldn't bring herself to commit to him. They slept in the same bed, and some nights they did more than just sleeping, but she kept insisting that they weren't dating. No one questioned her reasoning; all they were concerned about was her sanity.  
"And I'm going to keep asking you until you stop going."  
"And I'm going to keep going until I get some answers."  
"Like Hanna got answers from Mona?" Wren asks. He sees a flicker of hurt in her eyes and softens his tones. "Spencer, I can't imagine what you are going through, and I understand that you need closure. But nothing he says can redeem what he did to you. It might always hurt a little, but you need to find a way to move on."  
Spencer drops her suitcase and gives Wren a hard kiss on the mouth, followed by a more tender hug. Taking a step back, she picks her suitcase back up. "Which is why I have to go. There is no way to move on without this."

Wren gives her sad smile, nodding ever so slightly. He was expecting this.

"You know, you are the most compassionate man I will ever know." Spencer says, inching her way towards the front door. She hated this part, she hated hurting him, but she had to go. She had to see Toby.

"And this is our kitchen!" Hanna says excitedly. She starts explaining the layout to the camera crew, when Mindy Jenkins, the reporter, cuts her off.  
"Hanna, Hanna, this is all great, and I'm sure we'll use some of this to show how…  
Well adjusted you are. But what we really want is to sit down and ask you and your boyfriend a few questions about life after 'A.'"  
Hanna's expression falls, and her voice turns flat. "This is it. This is my life. I kill myself working fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, trying to make my dreams happen."  
"Have you and Caleb thought about marriage?"  
"We're still young." Hanna crosses her arms across her chest, prepared to defend herself against this reporter like she's had to do with all of the others for the past few months.  
"We're not trying to attack your or trick you into saying something you want to keep private. This documentary is to give an honest account of your life."  
"Well, I told you, this is it. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with a potential client."

"Being in love with a person with such a complicated past is . . . Complicated." Dawn flashes a nervous smile towards the camera, tucking a piece of her short, honey-blond hair behind her ear.  
"And how do you deal with it?" Miranda asks, leaning on her clipboard. She shifts in her seat on the worn out couch, and through gritted teeth she says, "Try to ignore the camera. Pretend you and I are just having a conversation."  
Dawn nods vigorously and jumps out of her seat, talking a mile a minute. "Would you like some coffee? Or I have some delicious chai tea. It's not everyone's cup of tea – no pun intended – but I love going it. It's really fun to the farmer's market and trying out all of the different organic teas."  
"Okay, let's cut it. In fact, let's have a ten minute break." Miranda leans towards the boom operator. "Have a smoke, or get some food, or take a dump; I don't care. I just need some time alone to calm her down."  
The crew nods and file out. Miranda follows Dawn into the kitchen area of the open plan living area. Dawn's job as a pharmaceutical rep pays well enough to have allowed her and Emily to move into the spacious, well lit loft apartment in central Austin. "Dawn," Miranda slips into a barstool at the island counter. "You told me that you used to be a country singer, right? How did you handle stage fright?"  
The boredom in her voice is evident. "I used my nervous energy to boost my stage presence. It's performing one-oh-one."  
"That's what we need you to do here."  
"It's not the same. With my singing, I could practice and be confident in my work. The reason I didn't even last a week in acting class is because I _suck_ at improv."  
"Then let's practice!" Miranda peers at her notes. "How do you make a complicated relationship work?"

"It's like math; you simplify it. We talk about everything, and we're honest, to the point of being extremely blunt, about any issues we have. We get to the core of our problems and deal with them directly."  
"How has A affected Emily's trust in people?"  
"I've never given her a reason to think she can't trust me, so hopefully I can prove to her that we're not all out to get her."  
"Are there any other ways that A has interfered?"  
"You can't go through something like that and come out unscathed. It was bullying to the point of psychopathic behavior. So obviously, she has some tender and damaged spots and a boatload of insecurities, but nothing could stop me from loving her."

"On Mondays and Thursdays, and sometimes Saturdays, she'll just sit there and stare. He doesn't say anything either. On Tuesdays she asks him lots of questions, and she always looks angrier coming out than when she went in, which is saying something. I don't think he gives her the right answers." The guard explains to Kyle, trying to avoid looking into the camera. "Every Wednesday she has this meltdown where she'll cry hysterically or shout at him, and we have to escort her out. We try to be understanding and all, so we let her come back the next day. Fridays she brings him a muffin or coffee or something and then leaves. Never even looks at him."  
"How long has she been doing this?"  
"Oh, since he was convicted." The guard lowers his voice. "I want to know where the family is in all of this. It's not healthy for her, she's not getting anywhere, and I can't imagine that she has much of a life these days."  
"Does he get any other visitors?"  
"In the first few months, a lot of lawyers and therapists came to see him. But it's been only her for weeks now."  
"How does he interact with the other prisoners?"  
The guard shrugs. "I only guard the visitations." Leaning closer, he says, "Most people say he keeps a low profile, and that's true, but he always has this creepy look 'bout him, like he's scheming. Plus, in his first day, he gave his cellmate a nasty shiner for who-knows-what. On paper he's a model prisoner," The guard smirks. "But he wouldn't be in here if he didn't have a few tricks up his sleeve."  
"What do you mean?" Kyle asks.  
"Guys like him don't just have an epiphany two days into their sentence and suddenly start acting better. He's playing nice in hopes of getting out early. What he doesn't realize is that prison guards aren't as naive as those girls he tortured."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know in the reviews whether the story is actually interesting, because I don't have a clear idea of where I want to go with this yet, so I don't want it to be too wishy-washy. (Do people still say that?) **

**P.S. Please be patient for the next update! **


	3. Malcolm in the Middle

**A/N: This one is for all of the Ezria fans . . . sort of. Be sure to tell me what I need to improve on. Also, I wrote this fast, added some paragraphs, and did little editing, so PLEASE tell me whether the dialogue flows nicely or not.**

**You guys know in movies when someone visits a prisoner, and there's this table with the glass and the two phones? I don't know if those cubicle type things have an official name or not, but for some reason I had writer's block when it came to describing it. The good news is, you know what I'm talking about, so excuse my lack of us of appropriate vocabulary. **

**Disclaimer: Yes, I own Pretty Little Liars, and I'm rich and successful and best friends with a ton of celebrities, and that's exactly why I'm alone right now writing a fanfiction.**

Aria drags the back of her hand over her eyes to dry her tears. She keeps typing, her fingers move furiously across the keyboard as she lets her inner emotions explode across the word document. _It was the worst day of my life. I was babysitting his son when I got a call. The call. It was the hospital - apparently, I was his emergency contact. His car was a wreck, the ton of metal completely crushed, like it's no stronger than a soda. _

Aria jumps out of her seat when she feels a hand on her shoulder, and she's relieved to see it's only Ezra.  
"I didn't mean to scare you." Ezra says with a laugh, holding his hands up in surrender. He notices the mascara streaks under her eyes and frowns. "What's wrong?"  
"Nothing." Aria laughed. "I just get so into my writing sometimes."  
"I know what you mean." Ezra smiled and wiped at her smudged make-up with his thumb. "Now you're perfect." He gave her a tender kiss, and she kissed him back, and pretty soon, they were splayed out on the couch.  
"Wait, wait." Ezra sat up and smoothed his hair down. "I have to get to work. Plus, Maggie has been dropping by a lot lately, and I wouldn't want her to catch us like this."  
Aria tries not to sound miffed. "Why does it matter? You make it sound like you and Maggie are a couple and I'm just your weekend mistress or something."  
"Aria, that's not true." Ezra kissed her. "I just think it would be a little awkward, especially if we had to have 'the talk' with Malcolm now just because you and I were careless."

Aria feels like saying, "I guess you're right; you and Maggie were careless, and that's what got us here in the first place." Instead, she bites her tongue, accepts Ezra's good-bye kiss, and tries to smile like everything is okay.  
But it's not. Aria knows she can only run from the truth for so long. The fact is, Malcolm replaced her as number one on Ezra's list of priorities. It wasn't even that she was jealous of a seven year old; she just didn't know whether there was a place for her in Ezra's life anymore.

* * *

Kyle watches the prisoner shuffle across the cement floor and settle into the seat across from him, the glass wall stacked on top of the table separating them. They both reach for the phones at the same time.

"Hi, Mr. Cavanaugh, I'm-"

"It's Toby. And I know why you're here."

Kyle nods, drawing in a deep breath. His past projects weren't exactly dealing with pleasant topics or people, and he had stopped being scared of them a long time ago, but something about this guy gave him the creeps. "I'm glad you agreed to see me."

"What makes you think I'm actually going to talk to you?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

Toby smirks. "It's not exactly like I have a whole lot else to do in here."

"Point taken. But if you're not going to answer any of my questions, what are you going to do?"

Toby's face changes into an angry, almost menacing frown. "I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to listen very carefully, because I'm only going to say it once." Toby leans closer, not breaking eye contact. "Stay away from Spencer. If you try to talk to her about this or anything else, I _will_ know, and you _will_ pay for it. Understand me?"

* * *

"And the worst part is, I don't know what to do about it." Aria sighs into the phone. "I mean, I can't even remember the last time we had sex. He's always worried that Maggie and Malcolm are going to drop by, or he has papers to grade, or he's just too tired."

"If you ask me, you should just set it to him straight." Hanna tries to balance the phone between her ear and shoulder as she starts going through the racks and racks clothing at the funky LA boutique. They offered to give her five full outfits for free if she can get them more publicity. "Either he still cares about you or he doesn't. And if he does, he'd better start showing it. I know it might be hard to think about ending it, but Aria, you're too good to settle. You have your whole life ahead of you, and the last thing you need is to be tied down to a kid that isn't even yours."

Aria feels anger rising in her chest. She didn't know why she'd expected Hanna to understand or be sympathetic instead of her blunt self. "I wouldn't exactly say that I'm tied down to Malcolm," Aria defends.

"How many times during the last few months have you had to babysit him? You sacrifice your time, energy, and writing opportunities, and you don't even get as much as a 'thank-you'. Why? Because you're with his dad, and that means you're expected to take care of him when no one else is available."

"Okay, Hanna, I think I'm going to go now."

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Aria, but it's the truth."

Aria sighs again. "I know, I know. I'm just not ready to think about it yet."

"Fine. I'll try to dial it back a bit."

"And I'll try to make peace with this." Aria says. "Thanks for listening."

"I'm glad I could help."

"It's good that we all keep in touch, isn't it?"

"Not all of us." Hanna reminds her. "You know, I get so mad at Spencer sometimes. It's not _that_ hard to send a text or make a call. The worst part is when I have to call Melissa or Wren to find out how she's doing, or if she's even still alive."

"Hanna! Have a little sympathy, would you? How would you feel if Caleb was on the A-team?"

"The same way I felt when I found out about Mona. Look, I know what she's going through, and visiting Toby like that won't to help. Which reminds me – has the documentary team contacted you yet?"

"Yeah, they're coming by tomorrow. I'm nervous, to be honest."

Hanna laughs. "Don't be. They're a pain in the ass, but all you need to do is talk about yourself, which I do all the time anyway."

* * *

"These people are impossible!" Mindy gives an exasperated sigh, eyeing her fellow reporters whose faces are filling up her computer screen. They agreed to do a Skype update every now and then to report their progress. So far, there wasn't much to report. "I've looked through all of the footage. We have a nervous girlfriend, a rude and defensive Hanna Marin, a prison guard, and an intimidating inmate."

Kyle laughs. "'A nervous girlfriend, prison guard and inmate walk into a bar-'"

"Kyle! Now is not the time." Mindy snaps. "What are we going to do?"

"Tracy and her team are seeing Aria Montgomery tomorrow. I think our problem right now is that everyone is too closed off and suspicious - which is understandable, of course, but a big problem."

"So how do we get them to open up?"

"Maybe . . . and this might sound crazy, but . . ." Kyle hesitates. "I can't help but think that if we got the four of them together in a room, they would be more willing to share."

"Three of them. Spencer Hastings refused, remember?"

"It was her parents' doing, and I think if I could just approach her with this idea and give her the right perspective on it-"

"Forget about it, Kyle!" Mindy pulls her graying auburn her into a tight ponytail at the crown of her head, something she always did when she meant business. "We're not risking a lawsuit for that girl. Besides, have you forgotten the threats that the Cavanaugh kid made?"

Kyle rolls his eyes. "Please. The worst thing he ever did was manipulate a couple of girls. I doubt he has any connections to a Pennsylvania crime family."

"If anything, I think those girls are going to become more defensive if they're in a room together. After everything, they must be fiercely protective of each other." Miranda points out.

"So what do we do?" Mindy tries not to sound too worried. "I don't want to sound like my melodramatic teenage daughter, but I don't get what we're doing here anymore. We're losing purpose. I know we keep saying it's about 'life after A,' but honestly, that hasn't helped me a lot. I have all of the questions ready, but whenever their answers aren't what we need, I don't know what else to ask."

"We're all stressed and tired and overworked. Let's just take a break and regroup tomorrow. Maybe Tracy's team has some inspiration for us."

"I know what the problem is." Kyle says slowly.

"What?" Mindy and Miranda ask in unison.

"We're not documenting the girls' lives. We're trying to investigate the A-team, figure out their motives. And that's not what this is about."

"It's a part of it, isn't it?" Miranda asks.

Mindy shakes her head. "I'm starting to think we rushed into this."

"Are you kidding? We've been preparing for two months."

"Maybe it wasn't enough time. We're improvising as we go along and it's not working out."

"Mindy, relax. We're going to get this done. We have time." Kyle checks his watch. "Speaking of time, I actually have somewhere else to be right now."

"Fine." Mindy says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But Kyle, I meant what I said; stay away from Spencer Hastings."

* * *

"Spencer Hastings?"

Spencer turns around to face a tall, good-looking guy with sandy blond hair and blue-grey eyes. She realizes with a start that his eyes are the exact same color as Toby's. And then she has that moment again, a moment that has become all too familiar. A moment where she can't breathe, because the full force of the truth is weighing down on her chest, and the pain is so bad that she just feels numb. A gentle hand on her shoulder shakes her back to reality, but she almost wishes that she could wallow in her self-pity forever. It would be easier, wouldn't it, than to try going on with her life?

"Spencer, are you okay?"

"Who are you? And how do you know my name?" Spencer demands, her voice trembling. She

s more alarmed than scared; is this some hallucination where her subconscious creates a weird version of Toby? Maybe it's a good thing. She needs a version of him that hasn't betrayed her yet. She's exhausted – and has been for the past seven months – so it would be no surprise if she was finally losing it in a being-sent-to-Radley kind of way.

"My name is Kevin Logan. My brother is in this prison, and I've seen you in here a few times."

"I'm sorry; I'm not really in the mood for small talk right now." Spencer pushes past him with a quick, apologetic, and completely insincere smile.

"That's okay, I'm sure I'll see you around sometime."

Spencer is about to go through the long security process of getting into the prison when something stops her. The encounter with 'Kevin' was a little too odd for her taste. She walks back to where Kevin is getting in his car.

"I'm sorry, what did you say your brother's name was?"

"Uh, Peter. Peter Logan."

"And what's he in for?" Spencer notices the offended look on Kevin's face and tries to repair the slight damage that she may have done. "I mean, I know it's personal, I just . . . if we're going to be seeing more of each other, it's probably going to come up sooner or later, so . . ." Kevin's expression remains unchanging, and Spencer becomes aware of how rude she's being. "You know what, never mind. Have a nice day." She walks away with her head down, her cheeks burning red.

_Get it together, Spencer. You really don't have to be so suspicious of everyone. Not everyone is going to lie to you, or betray you, or hurt you. After all, there's only one Toby Cavanaugh in this world. _

* * *

"I really appreciate that you did this for me." Emily whispers. She and Dawn were at the movies, but the film turned out to be a total dud. Thankfully they had a seat in the back so they didn't disturb anyone with their whispered conversation.

"I would do anything for you, Em; you know that." Dawn squeezes Emily's hand and gives her a heart-melting smile. "It just makes me sad that you had to go through all of that. Meanwhile I was in Philly, blowing my dad's money without a care in the world. I wish I could've been there to protect you, to-"

"Hey, don't do that. Don't go there. We didn't know each other, and the odds just weren't in our favor then."

Dawn kisses Emily, laughing. "I love it when you quote the Hunger Games."

"Well, I mean it. We met when we were supposed to meet each other. Besides, the experiences we went through made us who we are today, and if we weren't these people, we might not have fallen in love the way we did."

"That's very . . . philosophical of you."

"I learned it from you." With a wink and mischievous smile, Emily says, "And I know just the way to thank you later."

* * *

"You really don't mind that we're doing this interview together?" Aria shifts in her seat, holding Ezra's hand a little bit tighter. His smile is steady and reassuring, but she can feel his hands sweating. Or maybe it's her hand.

Tracy shakes her head, her silky light brown hair moving like water across her tanned shoulders. She looks like she's in her early or mid-twenties, but Aria gets the feeling that she's seen things that gives her much more mature perspective on life. Aria liked her immediately – in fact, even their phone conversations had left her intrigued.

Aria loves observing people, and it's one of the things that makes it so easy for her to write about characters that are nothing like herself. Of course, this often causes her to make quick judgments about people, and she doesn't always give them a chance to prove her first impression wrong.

"I talked Kyle Logan, who's our reporter in Pennsylvania. Our team has been having some creative problems. We're mostly unsatisfied with the work because we feel that we've lost sight of our original mission statement. I came up with a fresh list of questions last night, but we've been on the road for the past seven days, so I'm not too sure how sharp my brain was." Tracy gives a charming laugh. "Just let me know if anything is too personal or anything like that." Aria and Ezra nod, exchanging a glance. "When we talked on the phone, Aria, you mentioned that you two had a complicated start to your relationship."

"Yes. I, uhm . . . well, see, we . . ."Aria looked to Ezra, almost as if to ask permission.

He stepped in for her. "I was her teacher. And that sounds totally wrong, I know, but we actually met before school started. We tried to keep our distance once I started teaching at her school, but it was too hard to deny what was happening between us. And it took a while, but I was able to get another teaching job so it didn't feel quite as wrong."

"A lot of 'taboo' relationships end once the thrill of sneaking around wears off. What makes this one different?"

"We didn't want to sneak around. We didn't _want_ to want to be together, because we knew it would mean lies and secrets and being careful wherever we go." Aria says.

Ezra nods in agreement. "And to be honest, as much as I loved being with her, I didn't get much of a thrill from the sneaking around. It was more like . . . nausea. A sickening guilt."

"Have you guys broken up before?"

Ezra looks sheepish. "I ended things, once, because I thought it would make things . . . simpler. In the end it was too hard to be apart. There was also a period of time right after we told her parents when we couldn't see each other for a while."

"Yeah, they were keeping really close tabs on me. And I'm not sure if this counts, but . . ." Aria swallows the lump in her throat. "A few months ago, when Ezra found out about his son and went to visit him, we didn't really have much contact. See, I knew about his son for a while and didn't tell him, so a part of me was really afraid that I had ruined our relationship when I kept the truth from him."

"Why did you keep it a secret?"

"The kid's mother asked me to. I wasn't sure whether it was my place to say anything, especially when I shouldn't have visited the mother like I had." Aria feels a tug in her chest remembering the details. The wounds are too fresh to start reopening them now. She swallows hard again, hoping to swallow all of her emotions, but they're growing too big to be pushed down so easily.

"And you made it through it?"

Aria fakes a laugh and waves her hands around, gesturing to their apartment. "We're here, aren't we?" She picks up her coffee and takes a sip to avoid answering further.

_Maggie. Malcolm. He doesn't have time for me anymore. He's not mine to love anymore, he's someone's father. Why should I be his to control? Hanna's right. I deserve better. But I love him. How do I just walk away from our relationship because he made a mistake a few years ago? _Her thoughts swirl together, making her dizzy, and further encouraging the build-up of emotions happening inside of her.

Aria blinks quickly to get rid of her tears, but it does little to calm her down. Thinking fast, she 'accidentally' tips her mug too far, spilling the lukewarm drink across the front of her floral dress. "Damnit!" She jumps up, and her shock isn't fake anymore once she realizes the coffee isn't as cold as she thought and feels like fire against her skin. "Sorry for my clumsiness!" Aria says quickly, moving towards the bathroom. "I'm going to take a quick shower. I'll be right back. Sorry again!"

Once inside the shower, Aria lets the pounding of the water disguise the sound of her sobs. Instead of soothing her pain, the crying only makes it worse. And the worse the pain, the more she cries, and the more she cries, the harder it is to stop.

Meanwhile, Tracy continues questioning Ezra.

"Tell me about your son,"

"Malcolm is the most amazing kid ever. And of course, being his dad, you'd expect me to say that, but he really is great. I have a feeling he's going to be a pilot someday. He loves his train set, and I know most seven-year-olds do, but he has such a fascination with the mechanics of it. He's a genius, and it makes me feel pretty inadequate, to be honest." Ezra laughs, his face lighting up.

Tracy's dark, lively green eyes shift to her notes. "You never expected to be a father. How has it been so far?"

"I was scared at first. How do you handle being responsible for someone else? But then I met him, and realized that Malcolm is the greatest thing I will ever achieve with my life."

"Do you think parenting has taken over your life?"

"Definitely – and I mean that in the best way possible. I try to see him as much as possible throughout the week, and most weekends we have a fun trip planned. Like last Saturday, we went to the zoo, and the Sunday I took him to his first musical. He loved it."

"How does Aria fit into your family dynamics?"

Ezra's smiles freezes and he hesitates before answering. "She tries to come along on as many trips as possible, but she studies part-time and also works part-time, and still wants some time to finish her book and spend time with her friends. It doesn't always work out. Still, I know that I can count on her to look after Malcolm when Maggie and I are busy." Ezra pauses, considering what he just said. Jumping back in, he defends himself. "Not that the two of us are ever busy doing the same thing. In fact, we hardly ever see each other."

"How do you and Maggie get along? Is it ever awkward?"

"We're friendly. We had a big talk a while back and it feels like everything has been settled between us."

"And Aria and Maggie? That must be interesting."

Ezra purses his lips. "I don't expect them to become best friends anytime soon, but they're civil."

"How does Malcolm like Aria?"

"It's hard to explain our relationship to him – he doesn't get why we're not like other families. I know her loves her, though."

"How does Aria like Malcolm?"

Ezra looks confused. "She loves him, of course."

"Why 'of course'? Please excuse my bluntness, but parents are obligated, in a way, to love their kids unconditionally. That must have been hard for you after missing seven years of Malcolm's life, but you couldn't help but love him because he is your own. Why should Aria develop that same kind of love for a random kid?"

Ezra is floored. He stares at the coffee table, not saying anything.

"Let's take a break." Tracy says. The camera crew disperses, most of them heading to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry about that, Ezra," Tracy sits down next to him, her tone compassionate. "I warned you that it could get a little ugly, and if you want, we can cut that part out."

"No, but I. . . I need to talk to Aria before you show us the footage." Ezra leans forward and drops his forehead into the palms of his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. Groaning, he shakes his head and says, "You're right. She could despise Malcolm for all I know. I can't change it. I can't make her love him. I just hope that for whatever reason there may be, that she loves him as much as I do."

**Thanks for reading! More Spoby-type goodness coming soon**


	4. A Boring, Disappointing Update

**Forgive me. I'm really bad at sticking with my stories! I'm going to try writing more & updating regularly.**

**Looking bad at previous chapters, I made a lot of mistakes, but oh well! I'm only human. **

**I'm recovering from surgery, PLLs is back, & I'm finally on winter break, so hopefully this combination will force me to have a new chapter up by tonight. **

**I don't want to guilt or blackmail you into leaving reviews, but...I am encouraged to write more when I know that people actually read/enjoy/appreciate the story. **


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